


Code Geass Drabbles

by Sapphylicious



Category: Code Geass
Genre: Angst, F/M, Fencing, Genderswitch, M/M, Multi, written before R2
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-21
Updated: 2014-01-21
Packaged: 2018-01-09 12:36:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,556
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1146059
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sapphylicious/pseuds/Sapphylicious
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>3 SuzaLulu angst, 2 SuzaEuphy fluff, 1 genderswitch!Lelouch.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Code Geass Drabbles

**Break (Suzaku/Lelouch)**

The Suzaku that Lelouch remembered from childhood had always refused to bend. Lelouch had been frustrated, disdainful, and finally admiring (a tiny bit, sometimes) of the rigid stubbornness that seemed strange for a Japanese (all that bowing...). Suzaku was not flexible or graceful; he was all power and decisive blows, both physical and verbal. Lelouch was no expert on martial arts, but he knew a little of language, and he had experience being on the opposite end of the proud boy's attacks. There'd been no deliberation, no consideration, only reaction. 

_Weakness_ , he'd once thought in his own arrogance, not knowing that he would come to rely on that wild nature or actually miss it when it's gone.

Or not gone, not completely, but painted over with fake elasticity, with indulging, patient smiles, that could crack and become brittle over time. There was grace enough in the white, mirror-bright machine on the battlefield, but there was impulse as well, a reckless heart safely caged within the newly-designed frame.

_It won't last_ , Lelouch prophesized whenever he glimpsed the truth like wounds scattered over his friend, healing and leaving trace scars. A body couldn't hold up forever, it changed when it could and it broke when it couldn't, and Suzaku never did learn how to accept that. In a mutable, breakable world, something would have to give.

As he stared down the barrel of a gun, Lelouch realized he'd also been fooled, just a little (just enough), by that generosity and white uniform. Suzaku was selfish, stubborn, and had never learned to break, but when he refused to give then something else would have to go in his place.

 

**The Lady's Knight (Suzaku/Euphemia)**

He heard wagers being made in the background, piping up from the rest of the low buzz and murmur as the crowd widened to allow a ring of open space. Suzaku stood in the center of the circle, locked in by a barrier of Britannian spectators. He was on display, and they looked on with smug eagerness or mocking sneers. A bubble of anger tried to rise to the surface, but he smothered it completely. On the outside, Suzaku smoothly tugged off his gloves and undid the fastenings of his jacket – it wouldn't do to have a slippery grip or risk getting snagged. A slender, gloved hand reached out to take the articles and drape them over her arm. He presented his sword to Euphemia for her to kiss the blade and give her blessing.

"My brave Knight, go forward and fight honorably in my name." Her address had the steady automatic tone of ritual while she gently motioned for him to stand. Straying from tradition slightly, she smiled and mouthed the words, 'Please be careful.'

Suzaku bowed his head in acknowledgment and grasped the hilt comfortably. For a decorative weapon, at least it had good balance. A pity he couldn't have used a Japanese sword, but that was nostalgia speaking. Though it had been the style he learned as a child, the opportunities to use it were few and far between. He had to admit that his Britannian swordplay was now the superior of the two, no matter how the truth discomforted him.

Well, he should be grateful for whatever experience he had. When dueling had been listed among his duties as a Knight, he'd assumed that only meant as a Knightmare pilot. 

Suzaku took his place and saluted his opponent, a young noble who had been more than willing to battle the newly-made Knight of Princess Euphemia. After all, such a distinguished position must be given to only the most skilled. Surely, a little bit of a show would be welcome at this gathering. Duels were so popular back in Britannia and the Princess must be feeling homesick here in Area 11.

He found that he was perfectly glad to give them this demonstration, and didn't wait for the other to make the first move. If not for that tiny spark of incentive, Suzaku would have gone about the whole thing with veiled indifference. Just because he wasn't inclined towards boasting didn't mean he downplayed himself. He knew perfectly well what and where his limits were, and the other young man couldn't really compare. His form looked all right, and he wasn't sloppy, and he was certainly creative, making it difficult to predict. However, he was showy. His swordplay was abundant with unnecessary little flourishes to make the audience gasp and twitter. He was full of openings. Suzaku let them enjoy the exhibit for a while, waiting for the choice moment when he could finish this without anyone getting hurt. This wasn't a duel to the death, because it "wasn't proper" as party entertainment, but no one had stated explicitly whether they'd end at first blood.

Suzaku wondered briefly what they'd hate more: a Japanese winning over an upper-class Britannian, or Japanese blood on their floor. But then again, one of those could be cleaned and forgotten about.

He twisted and his opponent's weapon clattered harmlessly from a surprised hand. After a choking pause, the noble acting as arbiter announced, "Victory goes to Kururugi Suzaku, Knight Champion of Princess Euphemia Li Britannia."

 

**The Lady's Knight –take two– (Suzaku/Euphemia)**

"You're doing well... Yes, good... One, and two, and... Ah, nicely done! Suzaku, you hardly needed dancing lessons at all!" Euphemia laughed as she twirled prettily, taking measured, graceful steps back into her partner's arms. He'd picked up on the routine very fast, and there was no fault to be found in his balance or rhythm. She should have expected as much. Dancing in a ballroom must not be too different from dancing on the battlefield.

"I am honored by your praise, Your Highness."

...Not too different at all. Euphemia rested her palm on his cheek to get his attention, their footsteps never missing a beat. With his green eyes trained on hers, she smiled. "If I have any criticism, it would be that you're a little stiff."

And now he did tense physically, dismay and chagrin shifting across his features which had previously been smooth and blank. "I'm sorry, what can I—"

"Relax," she said quietly, both pleased and somewhat saddened by the reaction. "Please. Don't think about anything else, not the other nobles, the battlefield, or even me. Just be yourself."

She knew that look on his face – she saw it on everyone else. 'But you're a princess', it said. "If that's..."

...what she wants. Euphemia held in a sigh with practiced ease. Orders and commands, how she hated using them. But it seemed that every word that came out of her mouth was received as an order whether she wished for it or not. Because of that, she couldn't exactly demand that he stop acting so self-conscious around her. Perhaps with a different approach... "Suzaku, if I told you to jump off a building, would you do it?"

"Uh..." His bafflement was less than comforting. "...Do you—"

Euphemia despaired. "No! No, I would definitely never say that! I want you to be safe and... What I want shouldn't matter!"

They finally stopped their mechanical rounds across the dance floor. "Euphie... It matters to me."

"I would...only prefer...if it didn't." She turned her face away, embarrassed by her outburst but a little bit happy that he conceded to using her nickname. He should use it more often. Maybe all the time. Even Cornelia dropped formality when it was just the two of them. "Perhaps we've practiced enough for today. You'll be in fine form for the dance."

He gave her a small, hesitant smile, but his words cheered her. "I have my excellent teacher to thank for that."

"It was my pleasure." She placed her hand on his arm so he could lead her off the dance floor. Her eyes swept across the empty hall, imagining people filling its breadth and how they would react to the princess and her knight. Euphemia did not delude herself; she knew the majority of Britannia was disapproving of her choice, but at least they would not be able to criticize him for his dancing. She held her head high while the imaginary audience held themselves respectfully aloof.

"Euphie... Do you like dancing?" Suzaku forgot rigid manners more easily when he wasn't concentrating, she remembered that now. "I thought you seemed happy out there."

They were alone, and even after leaving the ballroom she still remained by his side. Euphemia smiled to herself and rested her head lightly on his shoulder. "I've loved dancing ever since I learned how. When I was little I'd always practice with one of my brothers. He was about my age, and he never liked it as much as I did." She giggled, recalling how Lelouch had refused her many requests, at least at first. "Eventually he would agree. He was quite good at it too, but that was a long time ago. It's exciting to have a reliable partner again- Oh, but I might be getting ahead of myself. Suzaku, did you enjoy yourself?"

Her question shook him out of a thoughtful, somehow incongruent silence. Blinking as though returning to the present, he laughed quietly. "It was nice learning from you, Euphie, it always is. You can absolutely count on me to be your partner."

She squeezed his arm tighter and let out a relieved, contented sigh. "That's wonderful then..."

"You don't need to worry," he added as if deciding something. "Being your knight is something I'm proud of, and I want to give you the respect you deserve as a kind, generous person, not just as a princess. I want to be worthy of you. I apologize if sometimes..."

"If we're both too distant?"

"Yes, I just..." He put his hands on her shoulders, turning her so they faced each other. "It's my choice. Whatever I do, whether it's fighting or dancing or going to school, it's for a reason. Please believe that. You yourself have given me many of those reasons, and one day I'll finally make it up to you. Then, maybe..."

Euphemia couldn't help but smile and bow her head in understanding and resignation. "Maybe," she agreed. "Thank you, Suzaku. This time you are the one who has taught me something."

Her imperfect, demanding self could be tolerated so long as she had a reason, and maybe, far enough into the future, there would be no more distance.

 

**Carte Blanche (Suzaku/Lelouch)**

He hadn't planned for this to happen. 

There was something different - _wrong_ \- with Suzaku. Well, seven years was a long time, Lelouch was aware of that, but time alone couldn't rewrite a person, couldn't interfere with a basic, intrinsic nature. Or no, that was a poor comparison, because Suzaku was still Suzaku no matter how distorted his image had become. Lelouch wouldn't care otherwise; he was certain his friend remained the same, but it was as if someone had drawn a veil. It annoyed him, that was all, and occasionally it would slip, but the fact was that it was _in the way_. He'd tear it down with his own two hands if he could. Lelouch needed clarity, needed to see all the lines and angles and designs, particularly those that were a part of him, and this obfuscation was— _irritating_.

Suzaku was altogether too composed these days, too calm and too peaceful. Peace was good, challenges were good, but this misplaced passivity was not. _Be surprised_ , Lelouch thought, silently commanded, as he leaned over one day and kissed the corner of Suzaku's mouth. _Be angry, be willful, be bewildered. **Be you.**_

There was a soft, startled noise, and that lifted his hopes (and made his heart thud too loudly in his chest, if he was going to be honest). He hadn't closed his eyes (of course not, he had to see), and recognized the instinct that sparked across Suzaku's face. But what if the flash didn't come again? Seized by that simple fear – not of rejection, ironically enough, but of acceptance – Lelouch held his hand over the other's eyes and leaned in again.

Suzaku followed his lead and he didn't know why, but the not-knowing made him grip an arm tightly, digging his fingers into muscle like claws sinking into prey (Suzaku shouldn't be like that, he was a fellow hunter and this was all wrong now—). He felt Suzaku tense, heard a growl start deep in his throat, and all Lelouch could do was keep pushing but eventually it ceased to make a difference. The kiss was almost violent and his fingertips fluttered over the strong pulse at Suzaku's throat, his hand no longer in the way and he almost ordered, 'open your eyes'. But Suzaku never did and Lelouch knew the blind couldn't lead the blind, so his remained open.

 

**Tabula Rasa (Suzaku/Lelouch)**  
*pre-R2 speculation

_'History is written by conquerors.'_ Suzaku didn't remember where he first heard that or why it stuck out in his mind all of a sudden. It might have been one of Lloyd's pointed remarks disguised as a passing comment, but Suzaku was adept at ignoring them. Now, holding the slightly battered book in his hands, the words came back to haunt him.

He avoided textbook accounts of the events, not because the official version was wrong or boring or pathetically reduced to catalogued paragraphs and chapters (though it was), but because textbooks reminded him of school, and school reminded him... Well, there was no more getting around it.

Suzaku forced himself to relax his grip on the slim paperback. It was a banned book, and he'd be in a world of trouble if caught with it, but just for now he didn't care.

Zero, Behind the Mask  
A Biographical Account of Lelouch Lamperouge

The author was an anonymous member of the Black Knights who revealed nothing about him or herself. There was no introduction, just a vague dedication, "for the masses" in the front. He sat on the edge of his bed and read it cover to cover in one sitting.

When he finished, he almost threw it down in disgust.

The facts were well enough, but the rest was fiction, postulating based on the masked Zero and whatever Lelouch had chosen to reveal. It was meaningless. Suzaku had known whatever was written in the book wouldn't satisfy him – nothing probably would, not now, not ever – but he'd gotten hold of it with some kind of desperation driving him.

All he knew was that he hated seeing Lelouch's name in print. There was no character, no voice, just an image imposed upon someone as faceless and obscure as the mask made him out to be. Had that been in Lelouch's plans all along? Seeing 'traitor' attached to the name though, that hit him like a slap to the face and he'd want to demand, 'what do you know?' Lelouch had been his best friend, his hated enemy. The populace didn't know the half of it and the devil should be paid his due.

His eyes skimmed the last page again, the summary of a piece of life, just a tiny part. From beginning to end it was a short story decorated in large words and broad ideals. Suzaku thought he could fill infinite pages about Lelouch and it would never be enough, not in something as limited as the written word. He tore that sheet out from the spine and let it flutter at his feet. Then working backwards (it felt like forwards, but that was another thought entirely) he systematically ripped out the pages of the rare book, as if he was stripping away the falsities in search of truth, or something like it. It seemed like he'd been searching for traces of Lelouch all this time.

Entire chapters lay scattered on the floor when he finished, left with nothing but the empty front and back. Zero was reduced to his namesake, and Suzaku would continue to seek evidence of Lelouch in the world, maybe to recreate and understand the person he had known.

 

**Reverse (genderswitch!Lelouch)**

Her foot caught on an upturned tree root and the wind was knocked out of her when she hit the ground. She heard Suzaku trotting back to where she lay, blinking back tears of frustration. Awkward and unsure, the boy offered her a hand. It was the gentlemanly thing to do, but Lelouch stubbornly refused it, pushing herself up. Besides, if he had real manners they wouldn't be running around outside all afternoon. It had been exciting at first, but now she was tired and sweaty and thank God no one else could see her looking so disheveled. Her hands brushed at the dirt in vain, stopping in horror when her fingers came across a rip in her skirt. Lelouch clutched at the fabric and the tears were falling, and the fact that she couldn't hold them back only made it worse.

"Are you hurt?" Suzaku hovered nearby, looking completely at a loss.

Lelouch shook her head, lips pressed in a tight line to keep from trembling. "It's just... My dress is..." She tore her gaze away from the skirt. It was silly to get upset. Even if the dress was her favorite lavender that matched Euphie's pink, her half-sister was an ocean away, comfortable within the luxuries of home.

"Oh." She bristled at his flat tone, void of sympathy. "It's just a dress though. I mean, it's nice and all, so you shouldn't wear it outside where it'll get dirty."

"Well, what else would I wear? I'm not some tomboy, I'm a _lady!_ "

Suzaku rolled his eyes. "Fine, do whatever you want. Wear your stupid dress."

Lelouch's eyes narrowed dangerously and her small hands balled into fists. How dare he speak to her like that. She drew back her foot and kicked him square in the shin before marching off on her own.

"What the hell did you do that for?! Some lady you are!"

"Shut up, I hate you!"

\---

Lelouch was already bored with the chess game. She gazed disinterestedly at the pieces, automatically planning out all the possible moves she could make depending on the opponent's, but again, the wealthy Britannian chose the most obvious path. This was hardly the challenge she'd been expecting. At least his reactions were entertaining, though it was low-class entertainment to be sure.

She held up the piece she had captured, the White Knight, while her opponent sweated over his options. Her boredom made her feel like a maiden trapped in a tower, unable to do anything but wait for someone to come to her rescue.

_How dull_ , she thought, putting the ivory carving aside, and making her next move immediately after he was done. _I'd be better off jumping out the tower window. At least I'd have done something._

\---

The girl in white watched her undress with unnervingly blank eyes. Lelouch snapped out, "What are you looking at?"

Those eyes flicked up to her face and C.C. shrugged. "Why do you bother? Even if all you want to do is hide your gender as Zero, you hardly needed to design a new outfit. Plus, it's strange."

"Like you're one to talk about strange clothing," Lelouch muttered, wincing a little as she unwrapped her breasts. It was only a minor discomfort to bear though. What was important was the portrayal of Zero. A figure like him needed to stand out and assert power, and to back up words with actions, collect victories. Zero could change the world. Lelouch was just a girl who hid in it.

She stared at her reflection in the smooth mask, her features schooled into a patient, mildly disdainful expression. Ever so bored, like she was fading. Perhaps she _would_ fade, like mist blown away to reveal a hidden landscape. But not yet, not just yet.

\---

The gunshot went off and Suzaku was running towards her.

She'd always been good at getting him to do that. All those times she'd stumble or lag behind, or simply wait long enough, and soon he'd be there to lend her a hand. She'd learned to accept his offer, and then they were unstoppable.

She didn't understand how, of all the things Zero could change and win, he couldn't win Suzaku. Only Lelouch could do that.

But 'Lelouch' was in the way.

She faced him calmly, mask at her feet, abandoned and unnecessary between them. There, too, was the body of Euphemia Li Britannia.

"Suzaku," she greeted casually, and that low-pitched voice was Zero talking. It was the front of Zero's shirt that Suzaku grabbed and he raised his fist, but never landed the blow. He looked like he could kill her, but even so...

"Lulu... Your own sister... You, all this time..."

She closed her eyes. "That stubborn little girl, she's dirty again, isn't she? She really isn't a lady after all, like you said. Only ladies can have knights. Euphie had..." Her eyes opened, streaming. "That little girl is crying again. She always hated when that happened. This will be the last time."

Her second shot rang out. The lady needed her knight, and Euphemia had the best there was. Lelouch would know.

_Goodbye, Suzaku. For seven years, you have always been my first love._

The mist in her eyes cleared.


End file.
